The Discovery in the Disappearance
by goaliegirl41
Summary: Brennan has been on the run for months. But what if on a random FBI consultation, Booth finds his Bones that he has been so desperately missing? I don't own Bones!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Alright so this is my first fanfiction, I hope you all enjoy! Special thanks to giggelot for helping me review and edit! :D**

This was the worst part of the job, because it always reminded Booth of . . . her. His heart ached at the empty seat beside him and the eerie silence that accompanied it. This was why he had preferred desk duty during the time she was away.

Away.

This was how he explained it. It was the only possible way he could quantify her absence without his heart crushing beneath his chest. The word 'away' implied a temporary state, whereas 'missing' or 'fugitive' guaranteed nothing, it was unpredictable, with no promise of a return. So the work days that required Booth to manually confirm basic identity information of FBI consultants by travelling never failed to reopen the debilitating wound caused by her disappearance.

Of course he understood why she ran, why she had taken their daughter with her. He wasn't angry . . . Booth gripped the wheel tighter. No, he wasn't angry with her, he was furious at Pelant. He wanted to end the bastard that had torn apart his family. But for now he could only wait for lab results from the Jeffersonian. Cam assured Booth that the moment she discovered anything crucial he would be the first to know. And therefore Booth arrived at the small rural town in Virginia with the same solemn mood he had been in since Brennan left, simply anxious to complete his job so he could return home to D.C. and interrogate Cam for any new information.

. . .

Thumping the consultant's door with more force than necessary, Booth impatiently awaited for the man to answer. He was in no mood for Mr. Hemb to take his sweet time. His house appeared to be in the most populated area of town: a small outdoor grocery next door along with a few boutiques, a deli, and other stores created a miniscule shopping region for the town's residents. At last the door's locks unbolted and the timid middle-aged man appeared from behind the door.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI, Mr. Hemb. I'm simply here to update and confirm your identification information for the Bureau."

"Oh yes, of course. Please, call me Sam," the man replied, "I didn't think I was to be expecting you for another half hour, but do come in." Booth grimaced, wanting to spend as little time as possible in the car, he had pushed 95 mph for the majority of the three and a half hour drive. _Let's just get this interview over with_, Booth thought to himself as he shut the door behind him.

. . .

Shaking Sam's hand, Booth thanked him once more for allowing their meeting to be short and precise. Booth fancied nothing more than to head back to the Jeffersonian to reevaluate the progress on the Pelant case. But as he opened the door of his black SUV, an abrupt wave of depression washed over him as his eyes fell on the empty passenger seat. Suddenly, he didn't want to endure another long car ride alone, and settled with wandering the various shops for fifteen minutes or so. He figured he should pick up some groceries, since he had been surviving on frozen TV dinners for the past few weeks.

Booth was sorting through the various carts of fruit, unable to focus on what he actually wanted to purchase, when a loud crash interrupted his melancholy thoughts. The cage that had housed thirty or so chickens was now open and chaos flooded the streets: customers running everywhere and the owner attempting to catch his flock. And for the first time in months, Booth cracked a smile. He laughed. Because he could only imagine one person clumsy enough to cause this sort of mayhem. For only a minute, it took Booth's mind off of the gravity of his despairing life, and he glanced over at the assumed woman responsible for the wreckage as she repeatedly apologized to the owner. With a pair of faded blue jeans and a bandana covering her hair, her silhouette looked oddly familiar. Although about 200 feet away, she seemed to know somebody was specifically watching her in the disorder encasing the street. Booth sensed that something was off with her but was still smiling when she finally met his eyes.

And then he stopped.

The pale blue eyes that glistened in the sunlight. The high cheekbones that were set so perfectly. And the immediate recognition that showed on her face.

"Bones," was all he could murmur.

He had found her.

**A/N: Alright I would really appreciate everyone's comments, if you didn't like it, I still want to know! Also, I'm not really sure where I should go next with this story, so if anyone has any ideas please let me know! I'll definitely make sure to give you credit! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

** A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I love you guys! 3 :)**

-  
_  
"I love you," she said as the colors from the stain glass window of the church streaked across her face. And for that one moment, Booth felt peace. _

_ The car door slammed._

And she was off before Booth could process another thought, crashing through the sea of people that were already scattered around the mess of chickens. But he couldn't let her get away. To run away. Not again. His legs moved swiftly through the streets, arms shoving those around him in order to make room for his stampede. She turned a corner just as the wind swept the scarf from her head and Booth was slightly taken aback by the few blonde curly locks that had escaped before they disappeared down the alley. But nonetheless, he continued on.

His brain was processing too many things at once. The persistent questions never ceased: _Why would she run from me?_ Was she afraid that he would hand her over to Agent Flynn? Didn't she trust him? Didn't she miss him? Wasn't she as desperate as he was just to feel the other's embrace once more? Or – the nudging voice in the back of his head persisted – _Does she not love me anymore? Despite what she said before she left me on the steps of the church? What did I do wrong? Does she think I don't love her anymore? Doesn't she realize how passionately I am in love with her? Doesn't she realize how much I have been longing for her to return?_

They all led to the same ending, the same final question: Why? But he knew why. Everyone knew why. Because she loved him. Because he loved her. Because she loved Christine. He had to remind himself of that, and so Booth banished the fears from his subconscious and focused on not losing her again.

"_I love you," she said. _

_The car door slammed._

The small produce cart toppled to the ground as Booth rounded the corner, and the owner screeched as the apples bruised and the bananas split open. But Booth drove forward. The alley straight and narrow, a dark promenade in the tiny, happy town. He saw the slender figure dash between a set of buildings, and he knew he was closing in on her.

Booth stepped around the corner with a sharp turn and barreled into another human being before he even knew what had happened. Dazed for a moment, Booth didn't realize that he was now lying on top of his victim, but his eyes recognized her features the moment they focused on her face. She struggled, trapped under his weight, attempting to free herself.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Booth whispered. Even though the area around them may have been deserted, he could still hear the commotion from the busy streets, and he couldn't risk her safety.

She stopped; her arm tightened around his bicep like she was afraid to let go.

"Bones," Booth murmured as he grazed his fingers along her cheekbone. They started into each others' eyes for what seemed to be an eternity.

A sudden crash broke their concentration, and instantly Booth pulled Brennan up and sturdied himself between her and the intruder while still keeping an arm around her waist.

"Who–"

"Shh," Booth interrupted her, tightening his grip. He didn't want to give away their position. Seeing a man stumble away from a fallen trash can that had caused the commotion move to another dumpster still closer to them, Booth moved Brennan so that she was shielded by the wall in back and him in front. Booth stood, motionless, eyes never leaving the scavenger until he finally quit the dumpster and left the alley. Both Booth and Brennan exhaled a sigh of relief, and then Booth turned to face her.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I just…I just couldn't risk anything."

Brennan remained silent, simply nodding, her eyes locked on his. Her fingers began to trail his face, rememorizing all the features that she had missed so much.

"I knew you'd come," she stated softly after a moment.

Booth smiled. "I'll always come for you."

"_I love you," she said._


End file.
